


You Make Me Sick Because I Adore You So

by Dovesummer



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Gen, I was never any good at tagging sorry, Kind of before that too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:14:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26273197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dovesummer/pseuds/Dovesummer
Summary: The part of Will that called to the man in front of him was something that disturbed and excited him in equal measure.  Perhaps these things were not so different.  But the desire was there, had always been there, and was undeniable.  Seeing him again had driven that home.  No matter how much he wanted things at home to be the same, they wouldn’t be.  They couldn’t be.  He had buried the yearning deep inside him, deep enough to pretend it no longer existed.  But he had felt the call.  It was always there at the back of his mind.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 63





	You Make Me Sick Because I Adore You So

The part of Will that called to the man in front of him was something that disturbed and excited him in equal measure. Perhaps these things were not so different. But the desire was there, had always been there, and was undeniable. Seeing him again had driven that home. No matter how much he wanted things at home to be the same, they wouldn’t be. They couldn’t be. He had buried the yearning deep inside him, deep enough to pretend it no longer existed. But he had felt the call. It was always there at the back of his mind. 

The truth was he had created the opportunity to see Hannibal again. He hadn’t needed him. He had wanted him. His reticence in seeing him was feigned as much for his own sake as for Jack’s. And the dance had been everything he expected and more. But he was ever a man divided. He’d put his family danger and at some level he’d known he was doing it. He’d known that by doing nothing more than seeing Hannibal he was placing them in danger. He did it anyway because, in the end, he simply couldn’t resist. 

When he thought the Red Dragon was dead, he was prepared to walk away again. Prepared to pretend. The many ways in which Hannibal had influenced him were palpable and disturbing. And exhilarating. He had never been so masterful in his manipulations. And he could see, walking away, that Hannibal knew and reveled in it. He was proud. 

“Was it good to see me?” he asked. Will paused. Seeing him was many things but mostly it was a call to the darker things inside him, the things he strove not to give into – and yet constantly seemed to give into when Hannibal was involved. It had been enticing, provocative, frustrating. The terror he’d felt for his wife and step-son was real, but just as real was the excited buzzing at the back of his brain that kept whispering that this was who he is and who he was meant to be. Sweet nothings from the devil within. 

Good was not the word. 

The drive back to his hotel room was a somber affair, the grey edges of the world already creeping back in. Grey edges he hadn’t realized existed. He’d thought his world was wide and colorful. He’d told himself he was happy. Hadn’t he been, after all? But the truths he’d long sought to negate, or at least diminish, accompanied him now, fervent and undeniable. We never feel so alive as when we dance with death. He never felt more alive than when he was with Hannibal. 

Bedelia had described their relationship in terms of a love affair, and he had to admit she was not wrong to use those terms. Seeing Hannibal was something akin to seeing an old flame. Hannibal had held, and still held, sway over him. That Hannibal was in love with him was not truly a revelation, but a long-unspoken truth finally given form. 

Love is a complex and contradictory emotion, difficult to find in its pure, unselfish form. If indeed it exists at all. Instead, love is often deceitful and counterfeit in presentation, full of twists and hidden desires. It can be both generous and benevolent and full of burning, aching selfish need. It exists at multiple levels of the emotional spectrum with different intensities of passion. 

Will had no doubt Hannibal’s love was genuine - or, it was at least as genuine as it could be. It could never be a gentle, generous love. It was wild and possessive, dark and manipulative. Something that would undoubtedly consume him if he allowed it. 

Will traced the scar on his belly absentmindedly, aware he was doing so only in a dim corner of his mind. He did this more often than he realized, the raised edge of the scar providing an odd sort of comfort. Those we hurt the most are often those we love the most, just as we are hurt most by those we love most. He had never had so deep or intense a connection with another human being. Not even his wife, the person with whom he was supposed to share his life and secrets. But there were places in his mind – rooms in his memory palace – that were closed to all but Hannibal. 

The draw, the appeal of him was sick. A destructive relationship from which he could never seem to fully extricate himself and willingly returned to time and time again. Even now as he clutched feebly to some sense of moral turpitude he wanted to let go. Leaving had been difficult and he found himself wishing it were Molly he longed to speak to and not Hannibal. 

It was almost a relief when the Dragon attacked him, something tangible to focus on. He’d had enough of emotion and memory for the moment. And then – then he was presented with an opportunity. It had been so deliciously easy to deceive Jack. To deceive Alana. They wanted to believe the best of him, after all. Even years later they still saw him as a kind, fragile soul. He was not fragile. 

And now, here he was: the final act. They had killed a man together and it had been an incredible, deeply satisfying and fulfilling experience. He reached out to Hannibal and when he described the experience as beautiful it was honest and freeing. He felt his humanity, his morality, slip further away. He was scrambling to hold on to the final threads, but even these were drifting away, as if stolen by the wind. Instead he gripped only Hannibal’s shirt. 

But the last strand was not quite gone, and there was still one thing he could do. But then he had always known it would come to this, hadn’t he? He had prepared himself earlier, saying his final goodbyes to the world, hoping the people he had once cared about would remember him kindly and forgive him his faults. Hannibal would always call to something deep within him, something he was tired of fighting. He grabbed the other man tightly and pulled. 

He was certain Hannibal knew what he intended before he did it, but the man didn’t fight him. In fact, he seemed surprisingly content to allow Will to take them over. He expected to feel regret when his feet left the earth, but he did not. He felt only resolution and a sense of contentment. A perfect end. _Mongoose_ Hannibal said quietly. Or Will might have imagined it. But it seemed fitting for the descriptor he’d used when they first met – the one that had made Will feel shockingly good, powerful – to be the last one he breathed as they plummeted toward the dark, cold water.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly I wasn't going to post this because: I wrote it mostly for myself, it's basically just introspective from Will's POV and not precisely shippy and certainly not smut so I don't know how entertaining it is for others, and also I haven't actually posted on or logged into this site in 5 years. It isn't even what I meant to write, I originally intended to write something post-fall and instead ended up stuck in Will Graham's head during the last two episodes.  
> In the end I can't stop obsessing over this show and me writing fanfic is an effort to stop being so insane about it (ha!). I feel like I'm in good company here.  
> Also the title has nothing to do with anything. It's lyrics from the Muse song Space Dementia because I needed a title and couldn't think of one.


End file.
